For too long had she been the scapegoat,
blamed for the fall of our own undoing.
For too long
had she been shyly shining
with self-conscious doubt,
cursed by the lies of man,
when all along, it was man's own vanity
reflected in her eyes.
He feared the light inside of her,
so, he masked her name with the title of darkness,
causing her to hide within a seashell,
only offering momentary glimpses
of sacred Illumination....
....and even then, men stumbled around,
choosing wrong paths along forked roots and tongues.
We halved apples,
offered them to her in return,
Pentacles glistening under her benevolent radiance.
Biting into a halved apple,
seeds fell back down to earth,
fell into moistened midnight soil.
And when the seeds sprouted,
the curse broke under the strain
of growth and oxygen.
Oh, how she glows again,
arms and legs outstretched,
alternating 5 and 7 points of light,
a new ray pushing forth from her crown,
another pulsating from between her thighs.
If Botticelli could see his Venus now,
he'd forgive the sins of hue.manity,
and willingly succumb to another death
in hopes of being reborn
under her enlightenment once more.
The imposters have weakened,
tripping over their own self-induced shadows.
The imposters have become too frail
to shroud her light within false titles of darkness -
the darkness is their very own.
We witness the garden's regrowth.
Lucem Ferre has agreed to protect us
from being cast out of the garden
(as she always has),
and in return, we will promise
to only call her by her sacred name,
to never again invoke shackles of deceit
upon her, balancing the scales
by admiring Pentacles glisten
under benevolent radiance.
September 17th, 2012